Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Warm (Cold) and Fuzzy (Sandpaper-y)

The warm, fuzzy feelings are hard to come by these days. As evidence, I offer you a gem of wisdom from my therapist this afternoon:

“There’s no one to take care of you now. You’re the only one who can take care of yourself.”

Thanks. That opens up a bright and shining ray of hope. Really. No, caring for myself is easy, don’t worry. I like being strong and independent all the time. Yeah, thanks for reminding me. I think I’m cured.

Okay, I’m being too harsh, I know. She’s actually a good sort, and I think most of the “ouch” comments she made were things I needed to hear, because, really, they’re true. All she’s doing is saying them out loud. And maybe a verbal ass-kicking is what I need to knock me out of this depression. If that fails, she said we could always “talk to a psychiatrist about other options” (read: “get you some Prozac”).

However, in the hopes of moving closer to the warm, fuzzy feelings, I’ll be responding to a call from Mrs. Chicky sometime tomorrow. Yeah, that’s right - tomorrow. Three days in a row of posts. Feeling down in the dumps has always been good for prompting an outpouring of blog posts / journal entries (from way back in the day when I had my online journal posted on my university webspace) from me, so maybe posts will be more frequent for a while. I have a bad feeling that this is going to mean a drastic cutting back in the comments sections, huh? Can you keep up with the mad new blogging pace? Can we stay above our current average of three comments per post? Can your comments break me from my funk?

The answer to that last one is almost certainly no, but I’d love to see you prove me wrong…


Anonymous said...

One aspect of your malaise requires clarification: Is there something in your life which is making you unhappy and which you perceive offers no egress; or, rather, have your spirits slumped without external cause?

The former case is quite difficult: even if temporarily your spirits rally, you nonetheless must continue to face the agent of your distress.

So I shall assume the second case holds. Here are some suggestions that can work for me:

- Exercise regularly. I know you dance, but you might try out other forms of exercise for a change (see my next comment), e.g., lifting weights or biking. In the latter case I recommend a trip around Portola Valley with a friend. Our dear university's gym is not without merit. I find the combination of lifting weights and then biking to Trader Joe's releases a huge rush of endorphins. And when I get back, my senses are optimally primed to enjoy the TJ's loot: cheese, chocolate, and beer.

- Break your daily pattern. For example, attend an evening classical music concert on campus, particularly the small, lovely ones that occur in Campbell Recital Hall. Exercising before the concert can make the experience exquisite (endorphins again). Or take an evening walk through the foothills. Or climb to the top floor of one of the buildings on campus with a balcony and watch the sun set.

- Go camping for a night. Nothing like two days of hiking and a night sleeping outdoors to redshift your 470-nm feelings. If you choose a place with little light polution and no marine layer, watching the night sky is a glorious part of camping, especially while eating chocolate of the snobby variety.

- Oh, yes, and then after all that, masculine-rhymes-with-sedate.

Anonymous said...

Two olives were sitting on a table. One of them rolled off the table, onto the floor. The other one looked down and said "Are you okay?", and the first responded...

"I'll live"

Note: This joke doesn't work as well when translated into "dos aceitunas..." :)

Anonymous said...

Two cute and funny videos at youtube, though perhaps they're already widely known:

Paragliding bear

Singing hippo

Lara said...

anon 1 - my but you're a verbose and sophisticated writer. you're a stanfordite, are you? (judging from your knowledge of campbell recital hall and the claiming of "our dear university") to answer your question, there is something going on, and you are right in that even if i can manage to drag myself out of this huge hole i will still have to face "the agent of [my] distress." and it is, indeed, quite difficult.

as to your suggestions, a lot of me doesn't really want to break out of my malaise, so ideas for how to do so will be unheeded for a while. i think that's the biggest problem right now - i just don't want to feel better. i'd be pretty content to just quietly fade away at this point.

seeser - i tell that story (about the aceitunas) all the time when talking about how some things just don't translate. "hay dos aceitunas sobre una mesa... oh, wait..."

anon 2 - thanks for sharing! they did, amazingly enough, both make me laugh. out loud even! incredible, but true. so thanks.

Anonymous said...

> to answer your question,
> there is something going on

I think I understand, particularly in light of your therapist's words. I am a master of living for one; if you ever need counsel, just blog about it and I shall advise.

I might add one other item to my list, trusting that you shall desire to dance out of your divot at some point:

- Paragliding! Tandem flights aren't much money, and nothing compares to the beauty and exhilaration of unmotored, open-air flight. Among the best moments of my life are when I am aloft, alone, all the land spread out irrelevantly below.

Lara said...

anon - i will keep the offer of counsel in mind; thanks much. paragliding sounds pretty cool, though currently i'm having trouble just getting out of bed in the morning. doing something that active sounds a bit beyond my grasp right now. trusting that i'll eventually "dance out of [my] divot" is a leap of faith i'm nowhere near prepared to make.

Tandava said...

Just remember: Caring for yourself doesn't necessarily mean being *by* yourself, at least not all the time. Even if you ultimately have to make some changes in yourself, you can still call up friends whenever you need a hug or some encouragement. Better than nothing. (Though yeah, I know that can be difficult too if you're depressed.) I don't know if virtual hugs can be warm and fuzzy, but they certainly aren't cold and sandpapery, so consider yourself hugged. :-)

Lara said...

graham - thanks for the non-cold and non-sandpaper-y hugs; i appreciate them. i have been leaning on my friends, for certain (see today's post (10/26)), but it's hard, especially when such a huge chunk of me doesn't want to feel better and doesn't want to get any help. i am trying my best, though.